The Great Forest and Other Love Stories

The sun shimmered on the water, as the train pulled into the Chesapeake Air and Spaceport RR station. He gathered his things and walked out onto a winding path, into a garden of dwarf sugar maples and ash trees. The path led him over a little bridge and a stream, and lavender star-shaped flowers. He stopped there to collect himself, to remember what his therapists had taught him, Alana on Avalon, and Gavin and Julia, at Blue Ridge. Deep breaths,  center and focus on the safe, on the gurgle of the stream below his feet, the star-shaped flowers, blooming by the water. Interrupt his fear-talk looping, be present now. The main building of the spaceport was straight ahead. The building seemed almost made of sunlight and water. Sea turtles, eels, dolphins, and sea horses seemed to be swimming inside its walls.

Inside, the spaceport would be filled with people from all across Terra, from who knew how many HC planets. And aliens. Strangers, all of them. Breathe in for three, hold for four, release for five. Center. Through the sliding glassteel doors, follow the signs to the ticket kiosks. Everybody was busy, going, coming. Edvard was just one more young human.

He could do this, and he had done it. He could do it again. He could hear Luc telling him that, as he touched him, kissed him.

I’m coming.

No answer.

Scattered trees inside, fountains and pools. Whoever designed the spaceport must have wanted it to look as if it was part of the bay itself. Water currents and tree-shapes in the metal and glassteel, the beams, and the afternoon sun visible in a great skylight over the departure lobby. Were those real birds flying overhead? Edvard caught the off-world accents he knew as he walked—Avalonian, Jardinero, New Scandinavian. A trio of enhanced chimpanzees, clearly traveling on business.  He tried to stare at the nest of Kalsons traveling together, with their pointed ears, white-gold hair, and skin.  Like Luc and his father. There were a few Kalsons like Manon with skin a darker gold, hair, a deep brown. He stepped back, as did everyone around him, at who he saw next coming down the concourse. Even though the Second Interstellar War had ended thirty-three standard years ago, clearly not enough time had passed for any Zoki to walk through the one of the largest spaceports on the North American east coast without armed HC security. No one had forgotten how many thousands of Wertyngeris had either died or were put in hibernacula for years, or how many of the frozen had been thawed and eaten. No one had forgotten how many HC soldiers died in the war. Yes, the war had ended with a palace coup, led by the Zoki crown princess. She had immediately offered reparations for the atrocities on Wertynger, and they had been paid, and were still being paid.

Edvard watched as the reptilian Zoki, all dressed in white, with ashes on their forehead, walked silently through the spaceport, staring at the floor. According to the treaty ending the war, the Zoki had to publicly atone for eating sentient life. The crown princess, now empress, had suggested fifty Terran standard years of shame and public penance. She had acknowledged that not all Zoki had known or participated, but the government she had overthrown had known, and it had had wide popular support.

Never again.

Someone spat on the floor as the Zoki and their guards walked past. He wondered if fifty Terran standard would be enough penance.

Edvard stepped in front of a ticket kiosk beside a family which was clearly emigrating. Everybody seemed to be carrying some sort of luggage, the three kids, the two dads. He inserted his passport and Universal ID into the kiosk, and selected shuttle to the station, star service to Wertynger, Next available ship, leaving Union Station. An option for stasis for the three week trip in hyperspace? Maybe after week one. Micro-cabin, no, too claustrophobic. Single double, Family? Single. It felt like forever for funds verification. Ding! Transaction complete. Please proceed to Concourse B, Gate 29, shuttle already boarding. Proceed to gate, please have ID and passport ready.

He had done it.